


lucid

by buckysplums



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Crossdressing, Feminization, Lingerie, M/M, a bit of smut but not really, he wasn't entirely into it but it isnt non con, mentions of other people - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 08:11:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14911662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckysplums/pseuds/buckysplums
Summary: "Hey there pretty girl," was what he said, dark eyes wandering up and down his body.He was neither of those things, but he wasn't sure what to feel.





	lucid

**Author's Note:**

> wow this sucks, the quality literally gets worse as you read.
> 
> not proof read btw

Patrick had an itch. 

It was under his skin and he couldn't seem to get rid of it. The kind of ache that throbs in an empty place. It could be phantom pain, but nothing had been taken away or missing. 

But neither had anything been there in the first place.

Right now he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling as sunlight filtered into the room. It was early in the morning, too early. But the other side of the bed was cold and empty, absent of the warmth that accompanied him for countless nights. The bathroom door was left ajar, where Pete was getting ready. Something about brunch with Spencer about label-related issues. 

"Hon? Could you help me pick out something to wear?" Pete called out into their bedroom. 

Patrick grunted in reply and slid off the bed, taking the blanket with him. He walked over to their closet and flipped the light switch on. He regarded their clothes for a moment, deciding on an outfit. It suddenly occurred to him that their clothes were, well kind of boring. They were mostly black and blue, save for the occasional flashes of mania purple or one of Pete's designer pieces. They all looked similar too, as Patrick rummaged through the rack. Eventually he settles for a hoodie, black jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He hangs the clothing hangers on the door knob and goes downstairs to their kitchen to make himself breakfast.

He was waiting for the frying pan to heat up when he hears the thumping of foot steps on the wooden floor. Suddenly there were toned arms around his waist and an equally toned chest pressed to his back. Patrick leans back to rest his forehead against Pete's temple. They stay like that for a while longer, soaking in the feeling of a familiar touch.

"I think I need to go soon," Pete frowns at his phone, turning to give Patrick an apologetic look and pulling him in for a kiss. "See you later?" He murmurs against Patrick's lips. 

"Yeah, I'll be at the studio later," Patrick says, and watches Pete as he puts on his shoes and walks out of the kitchen. He waits for the sound of Pete's car pulling out of the driveway before he sits down and finishes his breakfast. 

When he goes back to the bedroom and waits for a promised phone call from Joe, he finds himself staring at the closet, deep in thought. 

\- 

Patrick was walking down the streets, hidden deep behind sunglasses and the crowd. He was in the posh area of Beverly Hills, there to meet Andy at some trendy vegan bakery. He stopped and waited to cross the street. A store display caught his eye. Delicate lace adorned faceless mannequins, striking poses that were anything but. He recognizes the shop as one of those fancy boutiques, the kind that saw visits by only the richest and famous women. 

The red light turned green and Patrick was broken out of his musing. As he walked away, he realized that his wardrobe was not boring. It just lacked a bit of color. 

The bakery came into view and so did Andy, who grinned and greeted him with a tight embrace. They stood in line and launched into conversation. When it was their turn, they were attended to by a young man who looked more like a boy. His eyes were lined with black and his lips were smeared in glitter. He was all smooth alabaster skin, looking far too thin and small. His light blue shirt was perhaps the most colorful thing in the room, drowned out in the shades of deep silver and slate grey that encased this place. 

The boy smiled and handed Patrick his scone, dark eyelashes framing forest green. Patrick thanked him and they left the bakery, walking past the line of customers that was beginning to grow. He spared a glance back and the boy was being chatted up by some modern day Adonis, looking down on him all coy. 

When they get to the studio, they find that some of the equipment were malfunctioning and had to be looked at. Patrick settles on an armchair in the corner, pulling out his phone. He debates on texting Pete, but he finds himself thinking about the lingerie in the window display. He decides to humor himself, so he looks up Victoria Secret. Soon, he goes on to look at more websites, more pictures of pretty young models in pretty lace and even more bare skin. It all blurred into one, and he finds himself craving. 

He was just about to exit the website when a notification pops up. 20 percent off on the first purchase and one day shipping. Yet he felt strange. This was something unusual. Forbidden even, to himself. He felt wrong, everything about this was. But something squeezes his chest and he glances at Andy, who was lost to the world and deeply engrossed in a fitness magazine. _Screw it_ he decides and takes the plunge. 

\- 

The package arrives the next day around noon, in an inconspicuous box. He waited until Pete was out of the house and shuts the blinds in the bedroom just in case. He locks himself into the bathroom and hurriedly tears the package open, wanting to get this over and done with, to satisfy this strange curiosity and never deal with it again. 

The nightie was short. It was baby blue and the softest thing he ever felt. It had a low back and was soft lace, adorned with intricate patterns and joined together. The way it fit and hugged his figure was almost disgusting. But not as much as how he felt. How much he liked it and how much he shouldn't. He wasn't a girl. Neither was he one of those pretty boys who people fawned over. 

He takes it off and stuffs it back into the packaging. He puts on his clothes, his regular ones, and does all he can to busy himself. 

It works, until Pete comes home wearing that lavender sweatshirt, the very one from the champion visualizer video. It was soft, colorful and is probably all he ever wants, to be able to wear clothes and not feel the way he did. When Pete smiles brightly and gives him a hug in greeting, something in Patrick breaks. He grabs his wrist and pulls him to their bedroom wordlessly.

"Trick? What's up?" Pete was understandably confused. When he was sat on their bed and told to stay there, he smirks, realizing what was about to happen. He leans back onto the bed, hands under his head and squirming in anticipation. 

"Pete? Um, just promise me you won't laugh, okay?" The aforementioned man shot up when he heard the worry and fear in Patrick’s voice. 

“I won’t,” he promised, starting to feel anxious himself. 

Patrick steps out of the bathroom shyly and holds onto the doorframe, half hiding himself. Pete’s eyebrows raised and his jaw hit the floor. 

When a minute passed and Pete hadn’t said anything, Patrick sighs to himself and tries to control the sudden dampness in the back of his eyes, overcome with shame. He steps back into the bathroom but Pete pins him to the wall. Suddenly all he could see was whisky eyes and pure lust. Their lips met and everything else faded into the background. Patrick felt like he was floating, higher than anything he could ever take. 

"Hey there pretty girl," was what he said when they broke apart, dark eyes wandering up and down his body.

He was neither of those things, but he wasn't sure what to feel about it. About what that meant. So he loses himself into the feeling, distracts himself from the heavy weight on his chest. When he comes to it, he was sitting on the bathroom counter, legs held open and exposed. Pete was kneeling in between them, biting and sucking on the endless expanse of his inner thighs. Patrick knew there were gonna be bruises, from that and the bathroom sink that was pressing against his hip.

"My lovely little wife," Pete breathes into his skin, saying it like it was a prayer. "My princess, all mine and wrapped up for me."

-

It was a while later and they were in the midst of eating dinner. It was silent between them, but not uncomfortably so. The sound of the television filled the room, the music playing on the radio, the scraping of cutlery against fine china. Pete was humming, eyes focused on the flashing colors of the screen. Patrick fidgeted in his seat, weighing over what he was going to say. 

"Can we talk? About just now?" Patrick blurted out. Pete turned the volume down a few notches, looking at him in question. 

"You know, I'm glad that you shared your kink with me. I'm open to any that you have," Pete rested his hand on Patrick's knee. "I really enjoyed it," he winked. 

"Well I didn't," Immediately, Pete's face dropped and he retracted his hand away, as if he had been burnt. Patrick felt bad, but something about what Pete said irked him. 

"Patrick? I'm so sorry," Pete's guilt was evident on his face, he went on to say something else, but Patrick beat him to it. 

"No, I am. I didn't mean it like that. I did enjoy it and nothing is your fault. It's just, the part where you kept calling me a girl," Patrick explained. 

"I thought you liked that," Pete mumbled, looking like a wounded animal. 

"I'm not a girl, and neither do I want to be," the blond offered as an explanation. "This thing about me wearing women's clothing, it's not a kink. I just.. want to wear it? But I don't know," he crossed his arms and sighed. "I want to wear it, but I feel weird about it. It's just, the whole traditional idea that guys have to dress masculine has been deeply ingrained into me and I can't help but keep thinking about it ." 

Pete wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in. "It's understandable to feel that way, Trick," he reassured him. "But who says you have to follow that? Wearing women's clothing doesn't make you any weaker or inferior." 

"I know." Patrick wraps his arm around Pete, pulling him even closer than before. "But most of the men who do look like the opposite of what I do," he points out. 

"You're perfect just the way you are. And that's just a stereotype," Pete kisses his cheek. "Don't you ever change who you are for someone or something else." 

\- 

When Patrick told Pete that he thought that their wardrobe lacked color, Pete went ahead and ordered far too much clothing. Their closet kinda looked like a rainbow threw up on it, but it was a welcomed change from before.

**Author's Note:**

> in case you missed and so i can say it again, the concept of hyper masculinity sucks. what also sucks is that if you're a guy and wear women's clothing or more flamboyant clothing you're automatically gay and/or feminine and wants to be slapped around and be a bitch. and that lingerie automatically means a kink or that you want to bone. dang i dont even like fall out boy or ship peterick that much but i just needed to get it out n my friends do so 
> 
> also if ur reading this send me prompts pls. any ship or fandom is fine


End file.
